Peacocks and the Past Afoot

Besides the momentary excitement of the impressive NYFD prototype boat (fresh from the factory), that docked steps away from our vessel, peacocks and the past have been flooding my mind.

I took the boys to The Fountain of Youth Archaeological Park.  As we entered, we were greeted by traditional and white peacocks. Strange music filled the air (piped in from hidden speakers cloaked in the spanish moss canopy above).  We were transported in all but body to a mystical land.  Despite the incredible experience of drinking water from the same source they discovered over five hundred years ago, it was the Timucuan Indians who stirred my soul.  The living museum was a reminder that the ground we trod on had once been a peaceful community living in harmony with nature.  They were entirely slaughtered by the "brave Spanish explorers" who landed on their paradise and crushed them as they tried to rape all they could from the earth.  Blake and I had a memorable conversation with a young man whose genealogy dated back thousands of years to that fateful day when the white men landed.  After that, we both felt the peacocks eyes were gazing at us with both beauty and sadness.  I do believe that his generation will vindicate Native Americans by true remembrance of fact rather than rewritten history which glorifies so much wrongdoing.

O.K.  Let me climb down from my soapbox and speak now of my most elusive comrade...Monsieur Memory.  A dear friend from twenty years ago reached out to my sister on Facebook trying to contact me.  My first response...that was soooooo long ago.  I felt ancient.  Clearing away the mist of years past, I remembered those days of youth.  So much ahead.  So intent on following passions.  Trying to trace the path of my life.  Complicated ground.  Which led me full circle.  To the now, to the voyage of discovery, to a partial mid-life crisis out of which blooms creativity, clarity, and contentment.  There are few forces stronger than the soul of a mother in her forties!  Which of course leads to a Happy Mother's Day for all the Mom's out there and to the men who are men enough to mother in their own masculine way while loving the Mom's in their lives.  That's confusing but, you get the point.  That's all for now, folks.